


Give me Everything I Want

by kelsbees



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Blood, Episode: s02e05 Smell Ya Later, F/F, Minor Injuries, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelsbees/pseuds/kelsbees
Summary: When Eve requests that Villanelle help her learn information from The Ghost, she makes an assumption about what Villanelle wants in return. She decides, then, to at least get everything she wants out of the situation.The scene I wish we'd gotten a hint of in s02e05. Smut.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	Give me Everything I Want

Villanelle pressed Eve up against the counter, dragging her knife down Eve's tank top and letting it catch. Recalling their last intimate encounter, she brought it up to Eve's torso, mirroring the spot where she had been stabbed.

"Will you give me everything I want?" she asked, head cocked. Eve stared. She felt the cool pressure of the knife's tip against her side and the heat of Villanelle's body pressed onto her, swaths of tulle crushed between them. Looming over her, Villanelle's smirk grew wider and Eve gripped the counter. Villanelle leaned toward her with lips parted and Eve's gaze dropped. Everything? Fine.

Eve surged up and kissed her. Villanelle's brow furrowed. She looked side to side at her imaginary audience, confused. Her lipstick would come off on Eve when she pulled away, that was wishfully planned. To get there, however, stupid Eve had leaned into her knife. It cut promptly through her shirt and sliced her side. She hoped the sharp glance would not need more than a bandage. Villanelle relaxed her elbow and watched, not dissatisfied, as Eve winced, the knife's edge departing from the fresh gash in her skin. After a few quiet seconds, Eve pulled back.

"What? Don't you want. . ." Eve trailed off. She searched Villanelle's dramatically contorted face. She couldn't glean a thing.

"Don't I want what? A desperate kiss?" Villanelle said, holding the knife away from Eve as she scoffed. "Look what you've done."

Gesturing to Eve's hip, she stepped back to place the knife on the counter, exaggerating her efforts. Eve shook her head and blinked at her.

"What?" she asked again. Lifting Eve's shirt halfway, Villanelle revealed the thin, bright red slice. She wiped the little trickle of blood from Eve's side and marveled at it, turning it around in the light as it dripped down her finger.

"You don't have to be desperate, Eve."

"Oh, fuck you—" she began, but Villanelle brought her finger to Eve's mouth, wiping blood down the center of her bottom lip.

"If you want me to kiss you," she said, "you can just tell me."

Eve's desire betrayed her bitter intellect. Her back arched toward the murderer she'd invited into her kitchen. Of course, Villanelle would demand she say it out loud. She must submit herself not to Villanelle's apparent desires, but to her own. Stubborn asshole. Which of them was that? She couldn't tell. She could, however, taste her blood on her lips, drawn again from Villanelle. She squinted. No, Villanelle only laid the bait. It was Eve who chose again to bite.

"Okay, then. Kiss me."

Villanelle touched her cheek.The softening of her posture was barely perceptible as they kissed as she ran her fingers through Eve's hair and cradled the back of her head, then parted her lips to let her in. Eve's knees tipped apart as she tasted the champagne on Villanelle's lips, the blood on hers, the two of them melting into spit. She felt divine. She felt hot. She felt angry. How long had this taken? How many casualties could she have prevented? How many nights had she spent alone beside poor, sleeping Niko, touching herself in silence? Villanelle sucked Eve's lip between hers and pulled away, letting it jaggedly slip free.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked. Eve glared at her, pulling her hand free from her rumpled hair.

"You have made my life a living hell. You've shattered everything I expected to stay put. And now, I am supposed to ask you to help me." She pushed up off the counter, stepping them both backward. Knowing full well that she would only have control if granted it, she pinned Villanelle against the island. Villanelle's gaze was daring.

"I am supposed to trust you, the one person who does everything I never expected. Even when I do expect it from you, you still manage to flip my entire world on its head, all the time. You have kept me up all night, for so many nights," Eve huffed. She took Villanelle's hand and, shakily, brought it up to her hip. She could feel Villanelle's breath on her still-wet lips as she inched closer. "Now, you're going to do it again."

Villanelle pressed her tongue between Eve's lips, groaning as they kissed again. The wound at her side smarted as Eve stretched up and held her neck, then her shoulders, her waist, her arms. Soon, there wasn't enough space to touch as much as she wanted, so Eve kissed her hard and moved to shove the dishes off the kitchen island behind them. Villanelle smiled at the clatter of pots and spice jars, one audibly cracking against the kitchen floor as she hopped up, grabbing Eve by the hips and pulling her up entirely on top of herself.

"Oh, fantastic," Eve sighed. Laying on Villanelle was not soft. Her powerful figure was nearly another tabletop beneath her, sheathed in voluminous fabric. Their champagne mugs spilled slowly across the table and the floor as Eve felt her up from thigh to chest, marveling at the sensation of finally touching her. 

Eve's needy hands soon upended the neat ponytail at the base of Villanelle's neck. Thumbing her spine there, she encapsulated the glorious, dangerous heat of her between her mouth and hands. Intoxicated with longing, Eve kissed roughly as she soared above herself. Villanelle's infallible exterior had cracked, and she was slowly spreading open to her as she pushed the wedge in. Villanelle slid her leg between Eve's.

"Oh, my god," she gasped.

"You're so hot already," Villanelle whispered, "I cannot wait to feel you."

"Then don't."

Villanelle sighed, tilting Eve up hard against her mouth with her thigh. Her hands slipped under the gray tank top, sliding her palms up, feeling her muscles writhe. As Eve ground her pelvis down onto her, she unclasped Eve's bra and felt below that, too. With a heady groan, she let Eve's breasts fill her hands.

Eve felt herself losing control entirely, and she loved it. She loved the delightfully selfish monster of hers that came out around Villanelle; she loved loving it, and the more that Villanelle touched her, the less concerned she was about analyzing this. She didn't let herself pause before her hand fixed around Villanelle's breast.

"God," she sighed as she felt the soft weight against her grasp. A satisfying groan slipped out of her darling assassin as she dug the heel of her palm in. She gripped her breast and kneaded. Villanelle's fingernails dug into her back, trailing down and down and under her jeans and around to her ass, pulling her in. They kept kissing until Villanelle suddenly flipped the two of them over. Eve's mouth dried up at the look in the eyes above her.

Villanelle could call her beautiful as many times as she wanted to and she would disbelieve it. The connection from her eyes to Eve's skin, however, was like wires holding a bridge aloft, like the world could rush beneath them and they'd rule the sky themselves. Their power was undeniable.

Lifting the bottom of Eve's shirt, Villanelle arched an eyebrow and Eve lifted her arms above her head. Villanelle smiled as she pulled the shirt off and threw it who knows where, admiring the gorgeous body beneath. She traced her ribs again, feeling the soft give.

"Perfect," she whispered before bending down and pressing a kiss to Eve's chest. They both shivered as she let her lips brush across Eve's breast, feeling the goosebumps on her skin and the tremble in her breath. Slowly, she brought her tongue to the peak of Eve's breast, circling around her nipple until she finally pressed her lips around it.

"Fuck," Eve cursed. Shivering at Villanelle's lips, she grabbed and tugged at her everywhere she could reach. This had gotten so good so fast, and she was going to demand that it keep getting better. After all she'd been through, Eve deserved to feel so good. She yanked on the draped straps of the black dress. It did not rip.

"Ugh," she scoffed, "get this down."

"There's a zipper," Villanelle mumbled from Eve's breast.

Eve fumbled for it through the fabric, triumphantly pulling it down to the small of her back once she found it. She tugged at the fabric without help from her partner, who continued her very distracting oral acrobatics.

"Would you please, just—oh," Eve said. Villanelle hummed.  
"Shall I begin the show?" she said as she sat up. Perched atop Eve, she slipped her arms free and caught the top of the dress as it fell. She grinned, eyebrows bouncing comically. "Hm?"

Eve nodded and ran her hands firmly up Villanelle's thighs, feeling the hard muscles beneath her frills. She slid upward. As she did, Villanelle let go.

"Oh, wow," she sighed, hands slowly cupping her bare breasts. The image she had in her head was nowhere near as divine as the reality before her. "You're just. . . You just keep going, don't you Looking this good."

"You haven't seen everything yet."

Once Eve had sufficiently felt her up, squeezing and letting the weight of her breasts fall into her hands over and over, Villanelle arched down over her so that their chests met, softly sinking together.  
"God," Eve sighed again, wrapping her arms around her as they kissed.

Villanelle brushed Eve's cheek, then resumed kissing and biting her neck. Eve was marked up: a courtesy, Villanelle thought, a real reason to wear all those turtlenecks. She trailed her hand stealthily down Eve's body. She unbuttoned Eve's jeans, pulling the zipper down for good measure. As her cool fingers slid beneath Eve's clothes, she moaned in anticipation.

Eve gawked at the ceiling as Villanelle's fingers found their mark, slipping through a river of Eve. She ran her fingers along each labia, working her way slowly inward, noting everything she touched, logging the details of Eve's soaking heat for future dreams.

"Oh, Eve," she whispered. Villanelle watched her face, contorting and pleading as her fingers stroked her length. Her touch would be velvet against Eve's clit.

"Fuck, Villanelle," she groaned.

"Look at me, Eve."

Eve obliged slowly. Villanelle brought her fingers up, up, until Eve's mouth gaped open and her gaze strained. Eve pinched and squeezed greedily at Villanelle's breasts, too distracted by her glimmering, approaching orgasm to be frustrated about not feeling her up between her legs yet. How absurd it was to want this hard. Electricity rolled off of Eve's body, filling the room with their desire, their crackle, their sound.

"So beautiful," Villanelle said, stroking Eve's whimpering nerves under her fingers, and Eve's back arched up off the counter as she whined.

"Oh, babe," Eve whimpered, clutching her partner as hard as she could. Delight flashed across Villanelle's face.

"Yes, Eve," her mouth curved and her fingers curled as they slid inside Eve, her palm cupped, her touch impressing upon Eve a wider world than she'd thought herself capable of encompassing, an endlessly rising expanse of good.

"Babe, babe, oh my god."

When Eve came, she yelled, a cry more like a holler as she shuddered against the counter, her thighs clamping upon Villanelle's hand. Villanelle just watched, her eyes sparkling with joy, feeling Eve clutch and gasp at her as she shuddered for what felt like minutes on end.

"Amazing," she whispered, "I want you to feel this again. Do you want to go upstairs?"

"Yes."

Villanelle whirled up the stairs, knowing already where Eve's bedroom was. Scrambling after her, Eve came into the room just as the dress hit the floor.  
"Shit, you're gorgeous" she sighed, pulling her pants off. The sway of Villanelle's hips was heartbreaking as she posed for her, flaunting underwear just as extravagant as her first outfit of the night. Eve laughed. "I suppose these are your mourning underwear?"  
"Hmm, these are best-case-scenario underwear."

Eve climbed onto the bed smiling, then leaned back into the pillows with knees raised and hands in her lap.

"Come here," she said.

Villanelle sauntered over to the side of the bed, sitting close and bringing her legs slowly up.  
"You're going to have to walk me through this," Eve continued. Villanelle caressed her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Don't worry. I know you are a fast learner."

She wet her lips and kissed Eve again. Eve scratched her back and Villanelle moaned into her. Feeling Villanelle under her tongue made her tremble with strength. They touched and grabbed each other everywhere, but Eve paused when she touched the scar on Villanelle's stomach.

"Still not going to apologize?" Villanelle asked, toying with her hair.

"No," Eve said softly, fingers tracing the puckered edge where her skin was healing. One permanent reminder of Eve's impulsive love. "But maybe I can still do the other things I wanted to do to you in Paris."

"Give me your best shot," she smirked, letting her knees fall apart for Eve.

She kissed her navel, then pressed her tongue to the scar across her belly and Villanelle whined. Eve bit, dragged her teeth over her skin, pulled her into her mouth as if that were how she could satisfy her hunger. The press and pull of her lips left few hickeys, distracted as she was by the feel of Villanelle's tits in her hands once again. Sighing beneath her, Villanelle knotted her fingers in Eve's hair and tugged her away. They breathed heavily as Villanelle stared at her, the flush on her chest and the goosebumps on her bare thighs.

"Eve," she said, pulling her gently downward, "Eve, go."

Eve's cheeks were hot with arousal and, now, embarrassment. She worried that she wouldn't do this part right. Why the hell was she worried about that? Villanelle wanted her. That should've been an affirmation, but it felt more like an incredulity. Of course she wanted her, of course they had always wanted each other. Eve slunk down Villanelle's body, breathing hard as her trembling fingers slid under the lace edge of Villanelle's panties. As she pulled them down and off, they clung to Villanelle. They drew an obscene line of wetness away from her body, picturesque before Eve tossed them off the bed.

Villanelle's hand never left her hair, stroking her through this slow, rough amble across her body, finally wanting something so badly that she was waiting for it. Eve finally breathed her in; musky, sweet, and fucking everything.

"Please, Eve."

She looked up, her breath falling upon Villanelle's slick body, until she gingerly pressed her mouth upon her clit.

Villanelle gasped, staring beatifically at Eve before tossing her head back, her hands instantly shaking. She felt Eve trying to recreate her work, slipping her tongue in vaguely the same patterns she had. Between Villanelle's murderous thighs, Eve urgently became the most gratefully selfish version of herself; she moaned, melded into her. Her eyes scrunched in pleasure as Villanelle tugged her hair, stroking the back of her head with both shaky hands. Pressing tenderly into her, Eve curled her fingers up, and Villanelle cried out.

Villanelle's cheeks grew warmer as her eyes pricked with laughter or release. Something in her spine began to glow, building as Eve fell into a rhythm with mouth and hands.

"Eve," she moaned, writhing, "Eve, Eve, Eve."

Eve dripped as the assassin cried out for her. She slid the hand of hers that wasn't inside Villanelle and pressed it between her legs, humming against Villanelle's clit as she touched herself, too. She focused on what she was doing with her mouth, mostly, and the feeling of Villanelle all around her.

Villanelle was so loud when she came. Her whole body shuddered and a stream of curses left her as Eve groaned, tongue still flicking against her. They were loud, soaked, and Eve didn't resist, making herself come again as Villanelle curled around her, up off the bed.

After their bodies stilled, Eve pulled her fingers out from Villanelle's heat. She studied it in the dull light of her bedroom, and brought it to her lips. She closed her eyes and tasted Villanelle again, this unbelievable decadence of a human being. She thought she might be satisfied if she never tasted anything else again. Attraction flared through her as she recognized that Villanelle would probably be thrilled to make that happen.

Villanelle huffed out a long sigh, tossing her hands up above her head. Eve just stared, her head resting on her thigh.

"I think I'm gonna call this normal for 5 minutes," Eve mumbled. Her partner snorted.

"We could never be normal together."

"Then I'm going to pretend that I don't mind how absolutely crazy you make me."

"Crazy about me?" Villanelle asked, propping herself up to stare down at her.  
"Something like that," she said, resigning.

"Come," Villanelle said, reaching for Eve's hand. She pulled her up, holding her against her bare chest. Eve settled onto her chest and stared at the two of them in the mirror, nude and draped together. Her chin squished into the curve of Villanelle's breast as she played with her hair, her touch still softly electric.

"What the hell am I doing?" she whispered.

"Some people fall asleep after they have sex," Villanelle suggested.

"Yeah." She felt heavy against Villanelle's heartbeat and thought again about how this could have never happened, about how she could have killed her with her last stroke of passion. Her eyes welled up. She was, in a distorted way, grateful that she hadn't, now watching Villanelle gaze down at her as she ran her fingers through her hair. Glowing from her touch, Villanelle could still feel the press of the other woman inside her. Inside her so differently than the knife had been weeks ago, yet, it was the same love.

"I will work with you," Villanelle said, stroking Eve's back.

"I feel like you just did."

"Was that all you needed my help for?" Her petulant pout returned. "You hired me to kill you so that I would have sex with you? Do you know how many opportunities you had already for that?"

"I'm kidding, Villanelle. Okay. I need you to get information for me, I mean, for MI6, out of an assassin called The Ghost. There will be a car coming for us. . ." she sighed again, looking at Villanelle as she lay upon her chest. "God, I can't talk about business right now."

"Can we share the back seat?"

"Sure."

Villanelle snuggled around her. She let her eyes fall closed, not minding as Villanelle watched her, absorbing the map of her body and the way she slowly drifted off to sleep.

"Eve?" she whispered. When Eve didn't rouse, she shrugged, eyebrows raised, and slunk from underneath her to on top of her. Villanelle's fingertips skimmed Eve's thighs as she began to kiss her way down from the cut on her side.

"Huh? I already—I already came, babe, you don't have to," Eve mumbled. Her nerves were relighted immediately, the fog in her head honing in on the want between her legs. Of course her body wanted Villanelle more than sleep.  
"Do you feel finished, Eve?" she asked. Her hair tumbled across her shoulders as she looked up. Villanelle's cheeks were rosy and Eve didn't resent the way her stomach fluttered. This undoing was certainly her responsibility.

"No," Eve said, shaking her head. Their eyes stayed locked as Villanelle brought her hand up to her mouth. Pressing her thumb lightly against Eve's lips, Eve acquiesced, opened for her. She used her tongue like she had before and made Villanelle's eyes flutter. It was best if they left at daybreak, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to darling writer-friend laura q weir for always being willing to workshop erotica with me.


End file.
